


Mercury's Muse

by starsong462



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Childhood Friends, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Growing Up, Growing Up Together, Light Angst, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn, and yuuri is not, because why wouldn't he, victor is a prince, victor plays the lute
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-04
Updated: 2017-04-30
Packaged: 2018-09-28 07:38:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10079783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starsong462/pseuds/starsong462
Summary: "…The rest of the world disappeared. It was just Yuuri, the prince, and the story he wove as his fingers flitted across the wooden instrument. The music jumped and turned in unexpected places, raising mountains where Yuuri expected valleys; storming just as he thought the sky would clear. He was enraptured by the performance, captivated by melodies spun a silver prince with his head solemnly bowed over his quick fingers and many strings."Royalty AU where Yuuri and Prince Victor meet as children, fall in love, and inspire each other through music.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> imma be real with you upfront, this is purely self-indulgent. SORRY FOR ANY MISTAKES if i spend too much time on edits i never get the courage to post !!!

“Yuuri, come _on_ ,” Yuko took Yuuri’s hand, dragging him along impatiently through the crowded streets.

It was the day of the winter solstice. Most of the shops closed early, storeowners instead taking the time to line their fronts with decorative boughs and candles. The air shivered slightly with festive anticipation: lilting voices traded bars of jovial conversation, punctuated by laughter and the smell of smoked meats. Colorful fabrics hung from posts and buildings, cutting across the starkness of winter with a defiant flamboyance.

It was Yuuri’s favorite time of year. He wanted to drink it all in, savor it, store it away to him for the rest of winter season.

“Just leave him, Yuko. Chubs can’t keep up.”

“Yes he can! Yuuri, stop gawking and let’s _go_.”

“Sorry,” he mumbled, tearing his eyes away from the hot steam rolling off of a slab of meat being sold and roasted in the street. He slid his glasses further up his nose to keep them from slipping as they haphazardly wove their way through the streets.

Soon, the taverns would fill with raucous drinking and bawdy songs. Musicians would parade through the streets as they did every year, bravely bearing naked fingers to the cold as they performed for street sides overflowing with enthused onlookers.

The musicians would be great, and they would play well, but they would not be the best.

Yuuri’s parents would keep their inn open for the rest of the night, welcoming the extra income from those eager to indulge in extra food and drink on a night of festivities. They graciously gave Yuuri the day off to partake in the solstice under the supervision of his two older friends. Even at ten years old, Yuuri was expected to help out with the family inn nearly every day. Today’s day off was a rare treat, granted to him by parents wanting their child to have one last carefree holiday running through the streets, sipping hot cider and munching on candies.

But that’s not what he was planning to do at all.

“Yuuri, Takeshi. Look,” Yuuko said breathlessly.

The palace walls towered over them, imposing and magnificent. They craned their necks upward, trying to take it all in.

A narrow, eclectic caravan carts and wagons filtered through the gates from the palace square.

“How are we going to get in?” Takeshi asked.

Yuko pursed her lips, thinking to herself. Then she grabbed both their hands, leading them to the bustling square in front of the palace. “Like this.”

With all of the commotion, it wasn’t hard for them to find a cart to stow themselves in underneath. The only indication that the man pushing it might have noticed their added weight was a slight grunting as he moved the cart forward. Whatever it held, it smelled fresh and fruity.

At the gate, Yuuri heard fabric move and rustle above him. “Winter peaches?” someone asked.

“Aye,” the man pushing the cart replied.

“We were worried these wouldn’t make it in time, these are the prince’s favorite. Move along.”

The cart began to lumber along again. Yuko, Takeshi, and Yuuri looked at each other gleefully, trying to stifle their giggles with their sleeves. Then Yuuko gave them a devilish grin, and motioned with her head to jump out.

Yuuri’s heart clenched in his chest. He now fully regretted this. He started to reach out to Yuko, but she burst from out beneath the cart and Takeshi soon followed. The man pushing the peaches called out after her in a gruff voice and, belatedly, Yuuri took off after them, racing from fingers that ghosted the back of his shirt as he took off after his friends.

They didn’t stop running until they knew they were safe and out of sight, crouched in the snow behind a tree and panting heavily.

Yuuri put his face in his hands, and began to shake.

“Oh, Yuuri,” Yuuko said softly. “I’m so sorry.”

“Told you we shouldn’t have brought- oomph!” Takeshi was cut off by sound of a thud, presumably Yuko’s fist connecting with his shoulder.

“Yuuri,” she knelt down in front of him, placing her hands over his ears and rubbing gentle circles into his temples with her thumbs. “We can go back whenever you want.”

Yuuri’s breathing slowed gradually. He looked up at her, her kind brown eyes meeting his. He would follow her anywhere. “No,” he said. “I’m okay now.”

Takeshi grumbles something behind them.

Yuko took his hand, gently helping Yuuri to stand. He felt a blush begin to form on his cheeks, and he nuzzled his face deeper into his scarf to hide it. All three of them tentatively looked around, and for the first time, they were able to get a proper look at the palace.

“It’s huge,” Takeshi said.

“Beautiful,” Yuuri said in a hushed whisper.

“I don’t even know where to go, or how we would-“ all three of them jumped as they were cut off by a tolling by the bell. “Oh no!” Yuuko cried. “It starts in an hour, we have to hurry!”

“But Yuuko, we can’t- we can’t just,” Yuuri tried to find the words, but she was already pulling him along. “We’re not dressed like they will be! We’ll stick out!”

“Don’t be such a whiner, _Yuuri_ , you should have thought of that sooner. Yuko I told you we should have-“

“Both of you stop talking and _move_!”

They took off in the direction of the palace, scarf-ends and snowy footprints trailing in their paths.

~~

Eventually they found it: the ornate and exclusive zenith of the region’s art and culture; the palace state room where festivities were soon to take place. Yuuri had only ever heard about the unmatched talent that was invited to the palace on the longest night of each year. Musicians, actors, and dancers from all over came to perform for the royal court. It was the highest honor for an artist to be invited here on all nights.

They somehow managed to sneak their way up to the balcony that wrapped around the room, angling themselves to see between the narrow columns that supported the gilded railing. Yuuri drank in the lavish room while they settled in, keeping their heads low and huddling against each other in their bulky coats for comfort. Surprisingly, besides a few sidelong glances, they were nondescript enough to not catch anyone’s attention.

Someone in long robes walked to the center of the floor and lengthily announced the start of the festivities. Yuuri’s mind wanderd a bit until a group of dancers took over in the center. The music began, and below him the dancers moved with it with a quiet, understated grace, capturing Yuuri’s attention immediately.

All three of them applauded enthusiastically at the end of the performance, squirming around excitedly as they waited to see what come next. A succession of poems, plays, and music followed. Yuuri felt tears gather at the corner of his eyes during a particularly emotional chamber piece, and all three of them doubled over in laughter at a bawdy tune sung by a man in an over-sized, slightly askew hat. Takeshi nodded off during a sonnet, but was snapped awake by a soprano vocalist performing spirited aria. Yuuri and Yuko remained attentive the whole time.

The announcer reclaimed his place at the center of the floor. “Our next performance is very special,” he paused, smiling coyly. “He’s been working very hard at this piece he composed just for tonight. I can assure you that, as always, you are in for quite the surprise.” He winked, and as if on cue the audience chuckled, like they were in on some inside joke. Yuuri looked to Yuko and Takeshi and they both shrugged.

“May I present the young prince and heir to the royal throne, Prince Victor Nikiforov!”

Rapturous applause filled the room. People leapt out of their seats, clapping enthusiastically and careening as they tried to get a better a better vantage point to see the center of the floor. Yuuri huddled closer to Yuko to avoid getting stepped on by an overzealous woman behind him.

Fortunately from where he sat beneath the railing, he had a perfect view of the prince as he walked out to the center of the floor with an instrument in hand. The prince was at least a couple years older than him. He bowed once, lights glinting off the top of his silver – silver? – hair that was pulled neatly back with a blue ribbon. Then he sat himself on a stool and began to play.

And…

…The rest of the world disappeared. It was just Yuuri, the prince, and the story he wove as his fingers flitted across the wooden instrument. The music jumped and turned in unexpected places, raising mountains where Yuuri expected valleys; storming just as he thought the sky would clear. He was enraptured by the performance, captivated by melodies spun a silver prince with his head solemnly bowed over his quick fingers and many strings.

It was only after the music faded that Yuuri realized he had pressed his face against the railing in an effort to get closer. Gingerly, he pulled his hand away from where it had settled on his chest to clutch the fabric over his pounding heart. The room helds its breath as the prince let his hand fall away from the strings, and then broke into applause once more as he slipped off his stool and bowed. Yuuko and Takeshi clapped next to him just as enthusiastically, but Yuuri remained silent.

They stayed for more performances, but all of them paled in comparison to the prince’s. The three of them began to nod off and, knowing that the festivities would not end until morning, wordlessly signaled to one another that it was time to take their leave and make their ways home.

They managed to slip out of the balcony during a particularly raunchy monologue, and almost made it out of palace without incident.

Almost.

“It’s this way, I know it is.”

“Yuko, I’m telling you we already went down this corridor.”

“Shh Takeshi! Keep your voice down!”

Yuuri walked slightly behind them, still reeling from the night. He felt lighter somehow, as if he were gliding instead of walking, buoyed along by notes spun by a soprano in scarlet, a violet-clad dancer, a silver-

“Hey!”

The three of them whipped their heads around, locking eyes with a woman who was unmistakably a palace guard.

“Don’t move!” she called, jogging in their direction.

“Run,” Yuko said under her breath.

“Eh?” Yuuri startled, still in a daze from the performances.

“ _Run!_ ” She took them both by the arms to get them moving, then they all broke out in a full out sprint down the corridor.

They wove through different hallways, trying to shake the guard. Yuuri’s breathing quickly grew labor, both from their haphazard run and from realizing the consequences of being caught inside the palace without invitation.

“We have to split up,” Yuko said.

“ _What?_ ” Yuuri almost shouts.

Takeshi just nods. They come up to a place in the labyrinth of the palace where the corridor breaks off into different directions. “We’ll all meet back at the palace gate,” Yuko said. Then she and Takeshi took off in different directions.

Yuuri faltered to a stop, realizing that he was alone.

He looked around, panicked, and when he heard footsteps pounding in his direction he darted down a random passageway. He was out of breath, his side hurt, and the edges of his vision began to blur. He could barely keep up with Yuuko and Takeshi before, what made them think he could make a run for it on his own? Why did they leave them?

He turned into a dark hallway lined with the silhouettes of statues. He made it a few steps before dropping behind a marble figure, then pulled his knees up to his chest as he rocked back and forth on his heels, whispering to himself, “You’re okay. You’re okay. You’re okay…”

The mantra faded to silence, and Yuuri squeezed himself tighter and tighter until he was sure he could make himself disappear.

And then something warm and wet brushed against his hand.

He stiffened, pressing himself against the wall, not daring to look. The warmth brushed against his hand again, this time followed by something soft and plush, and a soft snuffling sound. Yuuri peeked over his arms.

A _dog_?

No, a puppy. The puppy nudged his hand silently, and without thinking Yuuri reached out to the stroke the top of his brown, poofy head. He giggled hopped up on his hand legs, placing two front paws on Yuuri’s knees to lick his face.

Yuuri loved him immediately. “What’s your name?” he asked quietly, weaving his fingers in his fur.

To his surprise, the dog barked back and ran off. Yuuri’s heart sank in his chest, both at losing a short-lived companion and at the very likely possibility that the dog just alerted someone to his presence.

He squeezed himself even further behind the marble statue, closing his eyes to shut out the rest of the world once more.

“Makkachin, where are you taking me?” The voice came from the direction the dog ran toward. Yuuri felt warmth on his hand again, then on his face. The puppy managed to squeeze his way behind the statue and happily lick at his cheeks.

“Makkachin?” Footsteps approached the statue. “What are you…why…who are you?”

Yuuri peered over Makkachin’s brown fur. With only the moon to light the hallway, he could barely make out the details of his features, but there was no question as to who stood before him. He has only ever seen one person with silver hair.

Yuuri wondered, briefly, if he’s supposed to stand up and bow.

“You’re not from the palace,” the prince said coolly. Swelling his chest with a sense of bravado he said, “Who are you? How did you get in here? My mother will-“

Yuuri started crying.

“No, wait! I’m sorry! I-” The prince knelt down in front of him. “I’m sorry. Please…stop crying.”

Yuuri tried to hold back the tears, but they just came faster. He was alone. He was lost. He was terrified. And now the prince was watching him.

“I don’t know how to help you. I’m not used to seeing people cry in front of me,” the prince knelt down in front of Yuuri, watching him in silence as if trying to figure out what to do. “I know! Do you want hot chocolate?”

Yuuri raised his head slightly, trying to hide how messy his face was in the crook of his arm. “Here,” the prince gently wiped at Yuuri’s face with his sleeve until it was mostly clean. “I can sneak you some from the kitchens.”

Yuuri let his guard down for a second, prepared to agree. Hot chocolate sounded absolutely perfect right then. But… “I’m sorry, your highness. I just really want to go home.”

The smile the prince had sported at the suggestion of hot chocolate waned. “Oh, okay. I understand. You look frightened. I can, um…I can show you a way out? That way no one will find you.”

Yuuri nodded. The prince offered his hand, lifting him gently from the ground just as Yuko had done earlier. “Makkachin will guard us, right Makkachin?” The dog barked in response.

The prince led him through a series of hallways and corridors, so vast and complex that the palace began to feel like a small city. Yuuri tilted his head back to get a better glimpse of him as he chatted amicably about Makkachin. His silver hair, no longer tied back with ribbon, grazed the tops of his shoulders. Occasionally he would brush it away as it fell into his eyes — eyes that shone grey-blue in the moonlit hallways. Even though the light was dim, at such a close distance Yuuri could easily tell that the prince was beautiful.  

“You-you performed tonight, right your highness?” Yuuri asked, unsure if his silence would come across as rude.

The prince stopped walking and looked at Yuuri. “You were there?”

Abruptly forgetting his formalities, Yuuri took the prince’s hand in both of his and leaned forward. “It was amazing! It was the best thing I ever heard in my life! It was…it was like you were painting a story, but with _music_ and I didn’t even know you could do that. I wanted it to go on forever, and I…” he trailed off, not knowing what else he could say to convey how much the piece meant to him. Remembering his place, Yuuri let go of the prince’s hand at took a step back.

The prince, however, didn’t seem to mind the breach of formalities. His face broke into a grin, and his eager eyes began to sparkle. “I’m so glad you liked it! I _love_ playing the lute, but mother and my teacher said I talk about it too much and I need to learn to talk about other things and-“

For the rest of their walk through the palace, Yuuri listened to the prince as he gushed about the lute. Yuuri learned about secondary sets of strings, the playing styles that varied by regions, and the benefits of going without frets. The prince barely took a breath as he jumped from one topic to the other, and Yuuri was so engrossed by it all that he didn’t notice they had stopped walking and now stood before a wooden door.

“This will lead you through a tunnel that goes directly outside,” the prince told him. “Just follow the outer wall of the palace north to get to the gate. You’re tiny and the guards will probably be drunk at this point, so you’ll be fine.”

Yuuri fidgeted a little bit, trying to think of he could say to possibly thank the prince. He ended up bowing as low as he could. “Thank you, your highness. For…for bringing…for not…” he closed his eyes, trying and failing to say the right words. “Thank you.”

Gently, fingers brushed against his shoulder and pulled him upright. “Don’t do that again.”

Yuuri stiffened. “What?”

“That.” Yuuri waited for him to clarify, but instead the prince lowered his eyes to the ground, almost sheepishly. “Can you call me Victor?”

“Prince Victor?” Yuuri asked.

“Just…Victor.”

“Okay. Victor…thank you. For helping me.”

Victor smiled. “You’re welcome. I had fun.”

Yuuri smiled back at him, and then looked through the door into the tunnel. He couldn’t see the other side, and though it was big enough for him to walk through upright, it was still narrow and claustrophobic. His legs began to shake, and his heart started racing at the thought of making his way through the dark, of getting trapped there, of someone finding him…

Which is why, completely on impulse, he reached out and hugged the prince.

A small gasp left Victor, but Yuuri’s shaking quelled immediately. Slowly, Victor’s arms came to fold themselves around Yuuri’s back. Realizing what he had done, Yuuri pulled himself away abruptly. “Sorry! Sorry your highness! I’m so sorry, I didn’t-“

Victor blinked at him, mouth slightly open in shock. Then he smiled. Then he _giggled_ and broke into full-out laughter. “No one has ever done that to me before!”

Yuuri smiled at him again. He felt oddly reluctant to go, even though something about the prince made him nervous. “Your high-, Victor. Thank you again. I don’t want to burden you anymore, so I should get going.”

“Oh...yes. Of course,” Victor gestured toward the door. Yuuri entered the tunnel and started to make his way through. It was damp, and it was cold, but Yuuri did not shake.

“Wait!” Victor cried out. “What’s your name?”

Yuuri turned back to face him. “I’m Yuuri.”

“Yuuuuuuuriiiiiii,” Victor dragged it out, testing it on his tongue. “I like it! Bye Yuuri!” Makkachin chimed in with a little _woof_ , his bark echoing off the tunnel walls.

Yuuri grinned to himself as he felt his way to the outside. The cold cut across his face as he pushed open the wooden door at the other end. He reached for his scarf to lift it over his chin, but belatedly realized it was no longer there.

Carefully, he picked his way to gate without incident. After closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, he ran through the gate, only slowing his pace to a walk once he was sure he had reached the palace square.

“Yuuri!” Yuuri looked around and sawYuko and Takeshi running toward him. Yuko tackled him into a hug. “What took you so long? We were so worried! What happened?”

“N-nothing,” Yuuri stammered out. “I just got a little lost.”

Takeshi snorted.

“Come on, Yuuri,” Yuko linked one arm in his and the other in Takeshi’s. “We might have time to get some cider before our parents want us home.”

And they walked off, arm and arm. But not before Yuuri looked once more over his shoulder to fully absorb the breadth and scale of the royal palace where music spilled forth with the abundance of water, buoying onlookers through the night on gilded seats and glittering robes, completely unaware that their silver prince - heir apparent, forger of legacies, and one day mighty sovereign – sat alone by a wooden door with his dog’s head to his chest, wishing quietly into his fur that to someone he could just be Victor.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ;) ;) ;) apologies in advance for the rampant anachronisms
> 
> btw this is set about two months after the previous chapter

“Yuuri! Don’t hole yourself up in your room, get up and help!”

Yuuri rubbed at his eyes, groaning as his mother impatiently rapped at his bedroom door. Even though his curtain was drawn, light filtered into his room with an unusual brightness that could only mean one thing.

Snow.

With a whine, he rolled over on his bed and shoved his head back into his pillow. He hated snow.

He fumbled around for clothes, pulling on whatever was closest as he stumbled his way to the door, eyes still bleary from sleep. As he walked down the stairs and past the kitchen where his father and sister were already preparing meals for the day, his sister made a comment about his unkempt bedhead and he just grumbled in response. He tugged on a pair of boots – first on the wrong feet, _again_ on the wrong feet, and finally right on the third try – then grabbed a shovel and walked outside.

Yuuri was not a morning person.

Nearly blinded by the blanket of snow under a clear sky, Yuuri methodically, albeit sleepily, began to shovel the tiny walkway that led to his parents’ inn, slowly waking himself up with the efforts of the physical labor. It didn’t take him long to finish, and when he did, he headed back into begin his normal routine of chores for the day.

It was past noon by the time he finished replacing the linens in the unoccupied bedrooms and giving the rooms a thorough cleaning. His mother had a bowl of his favorite dish, katsudon, set out for him in the kitchen for when he finished his chores. He grabbed it and took it into their private dining area in the back, and dug into it with gusto.

His sister walked in and plopped down next to him at the table to take her break, slamming her feet on the table and leaning back in the chair with her arms behind her head. She was sixteen with thick hair and an attitude to match; in a completely different stage of life than Yuuri and taking every opportunity show it.  After a few moments of silence, she reached out and poked Yuuri on his cheek, then on his side.

“You better watch out. You’ll keep gaining weight if you eat katsudon,” told him.

Yuuri tugged at his shirt self-consciously. “Leave me alone, Mari,” he grumbled.

Mari shrugged. After a few more bites Yuuri pushed his bowl away. He no longer felt hungry.

“Are you going to finish that?” she asked.

He shook his head.

“Let’s make a deal,” she said. “I take the rest of your break, and you do a little task for me.”

Yuuri rolled his eyes. “Why would I-”

She grinned. “I need to get something from the market.”

“Oh,” Yuuri’s eyes lit up. He loved going to the market, and he had been trying to go ever since…

“Well?”

“Sure,” he tried not to look too excited.

She fished around in her apron and pulled out a few coins. “We need some bundles of leeks. And a dozen potatoes. Oh, and carrots and apples…”

“I can’t carry all that!”

“Fine, just the leeks and potatoes then. I’ll get the rest tomorrow.” She counted out the change and handed it to Yuuri. “This is exact, so don’t bring back any change. If anyone tries to stiff you, let me know and we’ll have words.”

Yuuri pocked the change. “Thanks, Mari.”

“You’re welcome.” She leaned back in her chair and opened her snuff box, a signal for Yuuri to leave.

He slipped into his cloak and walked to the market, relishing the sunlight and cold, crisp air after spending the morning in the dimly lit inn. The market was still coming off the lunch rush, and though it wasn’t nearly as bustling as it would have been in the morning, it was still a little too packed for comfort. Yuuri shouldered his way through the crowd until he found a familiar stand. A small crowd was gathered around it and thrusting coins at the woman in charge. She counted and returned change with a deft efficiency as Yuuri hovered in the back, gearing himself up to jostle his way forward and grab what he needed.

But she saw him first. “Oh, Yuuri! Come here. What are you doing, sulking in the back like that?”

Eyes down, Yuuri shuffled his way forward. Minako, the woman who ran the vegetable stand, looked him up and down, ignoring the aggravated huffing of the other customers. She was a long-time friend of his mother’s; they had grown-up and gone to school together, and though Minako was a couple years older than Yuuri’s mom, she looked like she hadn’t aged in twenty years.

Yuuri knew that she spent the bulk of her early adulthood traveling around as a musician. Sometimes she came to the inn and performed at nights for the customers, but beyond that Yuuri didn’t know much about her former life. Now, however, he was much more curious

“I just delivered to the inn yesterday! What do you need, or did you just come to visit?” she grinned at him, and Yuuri smiled back. He actually really liked Minako. She was one of the few people he felt truly comfortable around. But the questions he had about the music – everything he had been wondering since the night of the Winter Solstice – stayed trapped in his throat alongside his courage.

So he shook his head. “I just need leeks and potatoes, please.”

“Oh, okay,” she looked disappointed, but she gathered up what he needed into a burlap sack. “Will you be okay to carry this?”

Yuuri nodded, puffing himself up to look stronger. Suddenly remembering, he reached for the coins in his pockets and thrust it toward her, but she just shook her head.

“Don’t worry about it, Yuuri. I’ll just add it to your parents’ tab for next week’s delivery. Just get yourself something nice instead.” She winked at him and walked around to the front of the stand to hand him the sack. Yuuri tried not to let it show when he dipped slightly under the weight of the food. “Swing by any time. I’ll probably come by the inn later this week,” she playfully pinched at his cheek and Yuuri giggled. Then her attention was back on her customers, and Yuuri was once more swept up by the sea of the market crowd.

He didn’t go straight home, though. He wandered past the shops, looking at carts of sweets and cured meats. Since his family owned an inn, he rarely had the chance to try anything outside of the fare his family prepared for the guests: hearty meals like katsudon and pozharsky served with dark beers and heavy ales. Here in the market, he was easily lured in by colorful candies and baked goods alongside charming trinkets and knickknacks.

Yuuko’s parents owned in a sweets stall in the market, and he briefly considered stopping by. They always snuck him little packets for him and his sister. But the potatoes and leeks grew heavy on his shoulder, and he knew before making his way home there was something he really wanted to see.

However, it was a stand of music boxes that caught his eyes first. Yuuri froze, captivated by the ornate wooden boxes. Some of them were engraved; others lined with precious metals with gorgeous painted images under the lids. His eyes roamed across them, finally settling on a circular, wooden box set in silver roses. A familiar figurine posed gracefully in the center, frozen in mid-dance. It wasn’t incredibly detailed, but it was still unmistakably the crown prince.

Yuuri reached for it, but pulled his hand back at the last minute. It looked much more expensive than anything he could afford, and almost too beautiful for him to touch with his bare hands. He tore his eyes away and kept moving.

Finally, he came to the stand he was looking for. One lined with instruments – better yet, lutes.

There were so many, all in different shapes and colors and sizes. Some were round, and others square, but the vast majority were shaped like tears. There were even lutes with two sets of strings, one laid underneath the other, just like the lute the prince plaid. The more intricate lutes, the ones with engravings and painted edges, were hung from the roof of the stall, away from wandering hands. Yuuri trailed his fingers loosely along a small, plain sprucewood lute. He looked at the shopkeeper who nodded his head, giving him permission.

Yuuri set the sack down by his feet and took the lute in his hands to hold it against his body. It fit nicely in the crook of his arm. There were more strings than he expected—eleven, to be exact – and he plucked at them quietly, unsure of how to spin melodies like the ones the prince made. He strummed experimentally a couple times, feeling the lute reverberate against his body as he tried to piece together any semblance of music.

Frustrated at his lack of understanding of the cryptic instrument, he sighed. The musicians at the palace made it seem so natural. He should have known better. Knowing he would likely never have enough coin in his pocket, nor the ability to figure out something as complex at the lute on his own, Yuuri moved to set it back on its stand when noticed the sack he had laid at his feet was missing.

He spun around frantically, searching the crowd for any sign of the leeks and potatoes. A gap opened up in the crowd and he saw the corner of the bag dragging along the ground. He thrust the lute back on its stand the disgruntled cries of the shop owner, and immediately gave chase.

Staying low to the ground so as not to lose track of the food between quick-moving feet, Yuuri closed the gap between him and the runaway burlap sack. But just as he was about to reach for it, it jerked forward, out of sight. Panicking, Yuuri kept running. He caught sight of it again, and just as he was about to catch it, once more it jerked away.

He played this game of cat and mouse further and further down the main market road. The crowds started to dwindle, and now Yuuri could clearly see that the sack was being dragged away by a brown dog. Tired and out of breath, he pressed forward until he tripped and fell forward, landing with his chest and hands flat against the road, wet and muddy from snow and countless, trampling boots. Taking a deep breath, he hoisted himself up and stumbled after the dog as it grew smaller in the distance.

Yuuri kept pressing forward until the dog rounded the corner into an alley. At this point, there were only a handful of other people around. Yuuri stopped to catch his breath for a second. His better sense of judgement told him to just leave the food to the dog rather than get cornered by who-knows-what in some ratty back alley. But he couldn’t go back to Minako for replacements, and he couldn’t go home empty-handed, either. Everyone would be so disappointed in him. So, taking a deep breath, he plunged forward into the dark, dead-end of a corridor formed by the almost negligible space between two buildings.

“Here puppy,” he called out quietly. “I just need the food back. I promise I’ll let you keep some.”

He heard a little whine ahead of him. Yuuri took another step forward. It didn’t _seem_ like a very frightening dog.

Then a hand clasped against his mouth as he was pulled against someone’s chest.

“Don’t scream,” a voice whispered in his ear.

Yuuri didn’t scream. He couldn’t make a whimper if he tried.

Then a brown dog bounded out of the shadows and came forward to lick at his muddy hands – a brown dog with curly fur and deep, soulful eyes. A familiar dog, much bigger than the last time he saw him.

Yuuri was spun around to face his assailant, whose eyes, no longer blue-grey in the moonlight but now a deep, rich blue in the shadows, darted back and forth as they searched his. Even with his hair tucked up into a ushanka, the boy holding onto Yuuri was unmistakable.

“It’s you,” the prince said. The intensity flew from his eyes and he grinned as he threw his arms wide.

Released from his grip, Yuuri stumbled backwards and almost keeled over as he tried to catch his breath. After a few moments of struggling to collect himself, he raised his back to the right angle for a proper bow. “Your highness,” he breathed.

The prince somehow looked even more dashing than he did the night of the solstice in a long, navy coat with epaulettes and knee-high boots. But his wide grin collapsed into a tight, thin line, and Yuuri, self-conscious in his muddy old cloak, couldn’t shake the fact that he had disappointed him somehow.

“Victor,” Yuuri stood up straight, remembering the prince’s request to call him by name. “Victor what…what are you doing here?”

“I came looking for you,” he said simply.

Makkachin tugged the now-muddy burlap out from the shadows.

“By stealing my family’s food and having me chase it through the market?”

“Well it would have been hard for me to talk to you out in the open and I, uh…I didn’t exactly know there was anything in it when I had Makkachin take it...”

“You didn’t…what?”

Victor smiled sheepishly as he scratched at the back of his hat. “I just thought it was a commoner fashion thing? I don’t get outside of the palace too often and it looked rather ugly, so I thought I could just get you a better one and…” he looked more closely at Yuuri’s cloak. “Yuuri, what happened?”

“I fell in the road,” Yuuri said, more shortly than he intended to. “While chasing Makkachin.”

“Yuuri, I’m sorry,” Victor took a step toward him. “Are you hurt?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“I’m sorry,” Victor said again.

They stood there awkwardly, not knowing what to say, and not meeting each other’s eyes. Yuuri was never great at talking to people he didn’t know very well, and despite the ease with which the prince talked to him on the night of the solstice, he said nothing now. Instead he towered over Yuuri, beautiful and silent with downcast eyes.

There were a million things Yuuri could have said. A million things he could have asked. Questions that had burned in him since the prince first spark a need for music deep within him -- questions about how to reroute rivers by plucking a single string; how to raise mountains by strumming.

But he didn’t move. He didn’t speak. He was frozen.

“Yuuri?” Victor said, glancing up almost sheepishly and breaking the spell.

“I should head back,” Yuuri said. “I’ve already been too long.”

The prince just looked at him, and then finally nodded. “Can I help you? I’m really sorry again, the least I can do is help you carry your provisions.”

“But you’ll get your coat dirty,” Yuuri said.

“I don’t--!”

“And Victor, you don’t…you don’t look like someone who would shop in this type of market.”

Victor sighed, resigned. “You’re right. You’re right. But I just…if you ever…” he trailed off.

Yuuri waited for him to say more. If there was a reason Victor wanted to find him – to drag him through the streets and scare him in some back alley for a reason greater than a highborn ruse for his own amusement – surely Victor would give it now. But Victor said nothing, and the thought that Yuuri might have just been an afternoon plaything to spook and mess with on a dull afternoon settled deep in his stomach. So he slung the sack over his shoulder and, weighed down by the combined burdens of the slightly-heavier burlap and his own disappointment, walked off without looking back; without saying a word.

By the time he made it back to the inn he was exhausted. He tried to sneak off to the store room without running into anyone, but his sister found him first.

“Where _were_ you?” she hissed. Yuuri looked up at her, and something in his eyes softened her expression. Mari sighed. “Put the vegetables away and I’ll cover for you while you clean yourself up.”

Yuuri started to walk to the store room when he remembered the coin in his pocket. He tried to hand Mari the unused money, but she shook her head. “Keep it,” she said. “I said I didn’t want any change.”

The store room was dark and cool. Yuuri felt through the contents of the bag as he placed the leeks and potatoes in their proper basket. When he neared the bottom of the burlap, he grabbed something round and much heavier than a potato.

He pulled it out. Yuuri couldn’t see it well in the dark, but he could tell it was made of wood. He finished putting away the rest of the leeks and potatoes and placed the muddy fabric in a bin off to a side to be cleaned later. On his way to the washroom, he shrugged out of his cloak and dropped it in a hamper to be washed and laundered, grabbing a set of clean clothes to change into later. It felt good to get rid of the heavy, damp fabric.

Yuuri went to the washroom and drew hot water into a metal basin. While he waited for it to fill, he got a good look at himself in the mirror. His face was spotted with mud and his hair was mussed up in all the wrong directions. He must have looked a mess to Victor. Sighing, he plopped down onto the washroom floor and turned the strange object he pulled from the sack over in his hands to get a better look at it.

He recognized it immediately. The wood was a deep, rich brown trimmed with beautiful silver roses. Before he could not see it since the lid was raised, but the top of the circular box was painted with blue roses to match the silver. Yuuri pressed a button and the lid flipped open, revealing the little figurine of the prince.

Underneath the box was a tiny crank. Yuuri wound it and watched the prince twirl around in circles to the music. The notes did not forge landscapes, but they were still lovely.

The shallow basin was almost overflowing before Yuuri finally drew his attention away from the music box. He carefully stored it on a stool while he washed. The hot water reinvigorated him, and after shrugging into a dry set of clothes he felt slightly less unhappy.

Before he returned to his chores for the day, he stopped by his room to set the music box on a little shelf by his bed. It looked nice next to the few other treasures he kept close to his head as he slept. But Yuuri couldn’t help but frown. He had no idea how the music box made its way into his sack -- what he _did_ know is that he didn’t pay for it. He left his room, resolving to return it to its shop as soon as he could. It made him happy, but it wasn’t his, and returning it to its proper place was the right thing to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry the second meeting was so brief! The way I have it planned, there won't be a ~really significant~ interaction between the two of them until Chapter 3 or 4. 
> 
> I'm going to do my best to post a new chapter every Sunday!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> T.T sorry this is so late T.T

“I want to be the soldier. Yuuri, _you_ can be the maiden.”

“Hey no fair, you were the soldier last time!”

Takeshi pushed Yuuri and stuck his tongue out. “Fatsos can’t be soldier.”

“Hey! Don’t be mean to him!” Yuko kicked at Takeshi’s shin. Takeshi crossed his arms and turned away from her, huffing.

The three of them were playing make-believe in Yuuri’s room while Yuko’s parents dropped off a delivery of baked goods at the inn. Takeshi, who was Yuko’s neighbor, came along with her family, and Yuuri was allowed a break to play with his friends for the afternoon.

“Fine. We can both be soldiers. But I’m going to fight against you,” Takeshi said, poking Yuuri in the chest.”

“Fine by me,” Yuuri said. “So that means Yuko will be…”

Yuko leapt onto Yuri’s bed and spun around dramatically, stopping with her arms triumphantly outstretched. “I shall be the illuminate, the marvelous, the inheritor of dawn and dusk, the azure rose, …”

“The heir to the throne and one-day mighty sovereign, Prince Victor Nikiforov,” Yuuri and Takeshi said together. Takeshi rolled his eyes.

Yuko sighed and batted her eyelashes. “I heard he has hair made of starlight.”

“I heard he’s a royal spoiled brat,” Takeshi said.

“How would you know?”

“How would you know?”

“Hey, Yuuri might know,” Yuko plopped down on the side of Yuuri’s bed and swung her legs back and forth. “Did you see the prince when we got separated in the palace?”

“Uh…” He had not told Yuko and Takeshi anything about what happened that night, and now it felt like too much time had passed to bring it up without it feeling awkward. “No?”

“Of course he didn’t,” Takeshi snickered.

Yuko said nothing as her eyes searched Yuuri’s. Suddenly nervous, he averted his gaze. “That’s too bad,” she said, turning her attention to his nightstand. She reached for the music box. “Yuuri, what’s this?”

A panic set over Yuuri, and he flailed his arms in her direction. “No, it’s um — it’s nothing! Not important! Just don’t —”

“What, Yuuri, is it a gift from your secret _girlfriend_?” Takeshi said, snatching it from Yuko’s fingers as she squealed in protest. He quickly found the lock on the side and flipped it open, revealing the figurine of the prince.

No one said anything. Yuuri’s face grew hot.

“Oh.” Yuko finally said as her mouth dropped open. But when she shut it again, a grin began to spread across her face and her eyes sparkled delightfully. Takeshi smirked. Yuuri hid his face in his hands.

“So you really like the prince, too, huh Yuuri?”

Yuuri groaned into his palms. “Leave me alone.”

“I want to see it,” Takeshi reached to grab it from Yuko, but she snatched it back.

“No, Takeshi, you’re not going to be careful with it!”

“Yes I will, let me see!”

“Let’s listen to the music first,” Yuko began to wind up the music box, but Takeshi snatched it from her hands. When Yuko snatched it back it slipped from her fingers, breaking neatly into three pieces on the floor: the bulk of the box, the very top of the lid, and the figurine, snapped cleanly off at the sole of the prince’s foot.

“Yuuri…Yuuri I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” Yuko slipped down from the bed. Her eyes welled with tears.Takeshi even looked remorseful, his eyes downcast as he swiveled his toe in the ground.

“I was going to return it,” Yuuri said quietly, reaching for the figurine of the prince. “It…it wasn’t really mine. I was going to return it.”

Yuko gathered up the other two pieces. She held them in her hands, watching Yuuri as he mournfully held the prince figurine in his.

“Hey wait Yuuri,” Yuko said finally. “I think these were _supposed_ to come apart.”

Yuuri looked up at her.

“Look, see how neat the lines are? And they snap together like…” the top of the music box snapped back on with a little _click_. “It’s a secret compartment!” she exclaimed.

Yuuri took it back from her and tugged at the top of the box. Sure enough, it popped right off with another _click_.

“Yuuri, what’s that?”

Yuuri looked at the part he had pulled off. Sealed in with a tiny red strap was a folded piece of parchment. He pulled it out and unfolded it on top of his bed.

“It’s a…map?” Yuko said as she looked over his shoulder.Takeshi tried not to appear too interested as he peered over Yuuri’s other shoulder.

“Yeah,” Yuuri said. “A map.” It looked complicated.

“That’s…Yuuri, that’s the palace.” She began to reach for the parchment and then hesitated, seeking permission with her eyes. Yuuri nodded, and she leaned in closer to get a better look. “It looks like this shows you a secret route into the palace.” She followed the route with the tip of her finger, ending at a drawing of a blossoming tree. “I wonder…” she flipped the parchment over and froze. “Yuuri,” she said, her voice cracking a little in surprise. “This is for you.”

Yuuri took the parchment from her. Surely enough, there was a note written in the upper-left corner in neat, swirling handwriting.

 

_My dearest Yuuri,_

_I’m sorry that this route in and out of the palace is so complicated; I hope my (quite excellent!) illustration is enough to supplement my earlier explanation. I’ll reassure you once more: at night, no one will bother you on your way in or out. The only one who knows about this is me, and now you._

_Moonlight will be more than enough to light your way. The next full moon, come and find me. I’ll be waiting._

_Yours truly,_

_Victor_

 

It was written with the discordant fluidity of a child who had been brought up in the sole company of books. Yuuri admired the handwriting and all of its beautiful embellishments. He resisted the urge to trace over it with his fingers.

He passed the parchment to Yuko and Takeshi so they could read it. They were quiet as their eyes darted across the page several times.

“So,” Yuko said finally. “You _did_ meet him.”

“I did,” Yuuri’s voice was barely audible as he looked away.

“And he wants to see you again.”

Yuuri did not answer.

“Well,” Yuko set the parchment back on the bed and gently took his hands in hers. “This means you have to go see him.”

“What? But…” He thought quickly for an excuse. “But I missed the full moon.”

“Well, just go the next one!”

“But he only said he would be there for this one.”

“You don’t know that.”

“But I…” Yuuri took the parchment back from her. “I…don’t understand this. I don’t think I can do this. It looks hard.”

“Well, he explained it to you, didn’t he?” Yuko pointed to the prince’s handwriting. “Here it says ‘supplemented my earlier explanation.’ So that means he must have talked to you. Boy, does he talk fancy.” When Yuuri did not respond, she frowned. “So he didn’t explain this to you then?”

“I left before he could.”

“You what!” Yuko and Takeshi said at the same time. Takeshi snorted, “figures.”

“You know what, it’s okay!” Yuko said. “We’ll help you figure it out, Yuuri. Right, Takeshi?”

Takeshi grunted and crossed his arms. He also did not outwardly disagree.

“Next full moon. The three of us will go to the palace just like we did on the night of the solstice, and you’ll get to see Prince Victor again.”

Yuuri smiled at Yuko’s enthusiasm, but it was a wane grin that did not reach his eyes. The thought of seeing a prince who was remarkable in all the ways Yuuri was not made him more apprehensive than excited. Having to sneak into the palace at night only added to his anxieties. “Okay,” he said finally. Then again, a little louder: “Okay.”

“Great. Takeshi?”

“Whatever,” he said.

“Now first thing’s first. Let’s figure out this map!”

 

~*~*~

 

In a month’s time, Yuuri, Yuko, and Takeshi were in the palace square looking up at the imposing walls that housed the royal family. Unlike on the night of the solstice, the intricate, iron-wrought gate was shut. It was dusk, but the full moon was already shining above them. Yuko stood in the middle of the trio, the map gripped tight in her fingers wrapped in fabric to protect them from the cold.

“I think we go this way,” Yuko said, pointing to the left.

“No,” Takeshi pointed to the map. “ _That’s_ clearly the gate, so we need to go this way.” He pointed to the right.

“ _No_. The gate is on the north side of the palace. Look at this compass he drew. This is south, so we have to go east.”

“How can you tell that’s east when the sun isn’t out?”

“Ugh Takeshi,” Yuko rolled her eyes. “Everyone knows the castle gate faces north.”

“Well I don’t—”

“Yuko is right,” Yuuri cut in. “We go this way.” He took the map from Yuko and started to walk in that direction. Yuko and Takeshi looked at each other and hesitated, taken aback by Yuuri’s sudden, if likely brief, show of leadership.

They followed the map around the castle wall. Forest crept up along this side of the castle, and they were quickly surrounded by trees, dark, dense, and forboding.

“Takeshi,” Yuko spoke in a hushed whisper. It felt necessary, even if there was no one else around. “Do you have that lantern?”

Takeshi pulled a lantern out from his coat and set it on the cold ground. His breath came out in puffs as he clacked two flint stones together, bringing to life a small flame. He passed the lantern off to Yuko, who held it over the map for Yuuri to read. Trees with stars instead of leaves occupied either side of a thin line on a map. If their theory was right…

“There,” Yuuri pointed. Yuko and Takeshi followed the direction of his finger to a tree with a star carved into its bark. As they approached it, the faint lantern light illuminated another tree a couple yards away with a similar marking. They walked to this one as well, and soon saw a third star tree.

“It’s a path,” Yuko said.

They followed the path outlined by the trees deep into the forest until it ended abruptly. Yuko raised the lantern to diffuse the light further while they all looked for the next tree.

“I don’t see it, Yuuri,” Yuko said. “I think the path ends here. What does the map say?”

Yuuri leaned in closer to the map. “It just shows a blob. Like a lumpy circle.”

“Like a hole in the ground?”

“Maybe.”

“I thought his illustration was ‘quite excellent!’” Takeshi cut in. “If he’s as great as you two go on about, why did he make this map so hard to follow?”

“Stop complaining and help.”

“I _am_ helping! I don’t have to be here.”

“Then go home!”

Yuuri sensed a squabble coming on, so he did his best to block it out. Reasonably, the next part of the map had to be close unless Victor forgot to add something. And then it occurred to Yuuri that maybe Victor didn’t actually want to see him at all. This was all just a wild goose chase designed to humiliate and make a fool of him, and Victor _knew_ Yuuri would be stupid enough to fall for it because…

Yuuri’s chest tightened. It was dark in the forest, and cold. His friends were fighting. In this very moment, he did not want to be here. He just wanted to be in bed. But he forced himself to take another look around. Finally, his eyes landed on a blue rose — the symbol of the imperial family, wildly out of place atop an ugly, nondescript boulder, and even more so because blue roses weren’t yet in bloom.

“Yuko. Takeshi.” He quietly called for their attention

Yuko and Takeshi stopped fighting and joined him beside the boulder. “That’s the flower of the royal house,” Yuko said. “What does the map say again?”

Takeshi held it up. “Nothing. There’s just a line drawn underneath the boulder that splits into a bunch of others.”

Yuuri looked at the boulder, dejected. “I don’t know what to do next. Maybe we should just go home.”

“What? No Yuuri! We came this far. Maybe…maybe we have to go…” Yuko took the map from Takeshi. “Maybe we have to go under the boulder?”

“That makes no sense.”

“Well, maybe there’s a secret passage or something!”

“Yuko, that’s _not_ a big boulder. There’s no way we would fit underneath it even if it did hide a secret passage.

“Let’s just try. Come on, help me.” Yuko rushed forward and threw her wait against the boulder, bouncing off of it and onto the ground with a muffled “oof.” She pushed herself upright and rubbed her shoulder tenderly. “That…that hurt. You guys have to help me.”

Sighing, Takeshi pressed himself against the boulder. Yuuri finally joined in, too, but the three of them were unable to budge it. Panting, they collapsed on the ground to catch their breath.

“It’s no use,” Yuuri said between breaths. “Let’s just go home.”

“Yuuri,” Yuko said. “We can figure this out.”

“No,” he shook his head. “Someone…someone might find us. We were making a lot of noise right now, and we shouldn’t be out this late and..”

“But Yuuri, he _wants_ to see you. We’re so close. ” Yuko scooted closer to Yuuri. “Don’t you want to see him, too?”

Did he? Of course he did, but…

“He doesn’t want to see me,” Yuuri said, more to himself than anyone else. Then, louder: “He doesn’t really want to see me. If he wanted to see me, then he wouldn’t have made this so hard.”

“Maybe he didn’t have a choice,” Yuko said.

“Well why do I have to be the one to come to him?”

“He already came to you,” Takeshi said.

“I just…” Yuuri had risen at this point, face flushed and eyes watery from frustration. There were just too many things that didn’t make sense right now, and how to get into the palace was just one of many. The crown prince wanting to spend time with _him_ — boring, timid, plain; the son of modest innkeepers with no admirable plans or ambitions — just didn’t make any sense. Something roiled in his stomach, something nasty and sickening. He recognized it immediately.

Instinct. A gut feeling. Intuition.

“I want to go home,” he said.

Takeshi opened his mouth, but Yuko jumped in first. “Are you sure?”

Yuuri nodded his head. Even if Yuko and Takeshi couldn’t sense that something was off about this situation, he could.

“Alright, Yuko said.” She looked crestfallen. “Let’s go.”

Takeshi looked like he might protest, but ultimately he kept his mouth shut. He didn’t say another word, not even when they dropped Yuuri off at his home and waved their half-hearted goodbyes. None of them did.

 

~*~*~

 

Months later, winter succumbed to its final death throws. Though the occasional chill still plagued the air, the last snow had melted, the ground had thawed, and flowers began to burst through the ground with unfettered tenacity, tilting their heads to the sky as they drank in the returning sunlight. Among them, on this day in particular, were the symbol of the Royal House of Nikiforov — the rare blue roses that grew most unusually on trees. Their arrival, though unpredictable, was a harbinger of spring and their presence, though beautiful, was disappointingly ephemeral and fragile. They were rarely seen off the branches from which they bloomed because they wilted almost immediately. But for the week they appeared, they filled the world with a delicious sent: lighter and and lovelier than other roses’, and somehow even more enticing.

“Yuuri, wake up! We have a big day today.”

And that would be why Yuuri was woken an hour earlier than normal, leading him to be even more irritable than usual before noon. He groaned a response to his mother though the door. Then he shrugged on fresh clothes and trudged his way to the front of the inn, grabbing the end of a bread loaf from the kitchen because who knew when he would have the chance to eat again today.

When he walked out the front door, he was hit by the smell of roses. But this year, he did not stop to admire their scent or the falling blue petals. Instead, he swept the inn’s walkway begrudgingly while taking intermittent bites of his bread, knowing he would have to do this many more times as the petals continued to fall. After he swept and finished his normal routine of chores, his parents sent him to the inn’s courtyard to set up for the evening. As they did on every first day of spring, his family planned to host an evening of performances for their friends and guests under their own blue rose tree. It was nothing compared to the winter solstice, but it was still one of Yuuri’s favorite nights.

Huffing, Yuuri dragged long benches from their storage shed across the petal-littered courtyard into neat rows. While dragging one of the benches, his foot caught on a tree root and he toppled over backwards. He laid there, splayed on his back, and stared at the underside of the tree as the petals lazily somersaulted to the ground.

“Need some help?” Minako appeared above him. She offered her hand and he took it gratefully. “I just swung by to drop off some more produce for your mom, but I can stick around and give you a hand.”

“You don’t have to—”

“Nah, please,” she waved her hand. “I’m not doing anything else.”

Together, they pulled the rest of the benches from the shed and finished by unfolding a wooden platform in front of the tree that would act as a stage. Minako also helped him to set up the fire pits they would light later to keep the courtyard warm.

When they finished, they took a step back to admire their work.

“They really are lovely,” Minako said as she looked in the direction of the tree. “It’s a shame they don’t bloom for longer.”

“Maybe that’s why they’re so lovely?” Yuuri offered.

She turned to him and smiled. “Maybe.”

Yuuri looked back to the tree. The courtyard was one of his favorite spots in the inn. It was quiet, but not oppressively so. Its insulated location at the center of the building spared it from the whistling wind that often characterized this time of year. Normally he liked coming here to be alone, but right now he enjoyed sharing it with Minako.

“Minako,” he said. “Are you going to sing tonight?”

“Hmm. I might. I haven’t talked to your parents about it. Why, do you want to hear me sing?”

“I just don’t get to here it often. But I like it when you do.”

She reached out and put a hand on his head affectionately. “Then I will. For you.”

“Why don’t you…” he trailed off. He didn’t know how to frame the question he wanted to ask.

“Why don’t I…sing more? Is that what you want to know?”

Yuuri nodded.

“I sing all the time, Yuuri, just not always for other people. I spent most of my life doing that. Now I do it for me.”

“Who told you to sing? Or…how did you know how to start?”

“Who told me to sing? No one told me to sing, Yuuri. I wanted to, so I did it. Don’t ever wait for permission to do something you love. No one’s going to give you that.”

“Oh,” Yuuri said. He frowned slightly and looked toward the ground.

Minako observed him quietly for a moment. “No. No, I take that back.” She put both her hands on his shoulders and turned him to face her. “I give you permission. Whatever you want to do, Yuuri, you do it. Do you…want to sing?”

Yuuri shook his head. Minako looked slightly disappointed. “Well whatever it is, do it. I’ll support you in any way I can. And if you decide you want to sing, well,” she winked. “You can always come to me.

Yuuri smiled up and took a step forward, wrapping his arms around her. Minako returned the gesture. “I’ll support you no matter what.”

They stood for a moment, simply enjoying each other’s company in the presence of the rose tree.

 

~~~

 

The fires were lit, the food had been served, and it was with full bellies and warm bodies that a small crowd waited in the courtyard for the evening performances to begin. Yuuri loved these nights, and he was thrilled that he and his sister finished their work in time to watch the show. He took a seat in the back, huddling next to Mari while his mother and father rushed in and out of the kitchen to refill drinks.

The first person to take the stage was a local performer that Yuuri recognized from previous years. He accompanied himself with a set of wooden spoons that he clacked against his legs. Everyone recognized the tune immediately and joined in on the second refrain. Yuuri clapped and tapped his foot along with the others, and when the song was over merry laughter flitted happily through the air alongside their buoyant spirits. One by one, others stepped up to perform, ranging from from amateurs to semi-professionals, newcomers to regulars, musicians to illusionists, and even a puppeteer. The most enthusiastic attendees gathered rose petals from the ground and tossed them to their favorites as they left the stage. Eyes wide and heart beating, Yuuri was enthralled by all of it.

When Minako took the stage, and everyone clapped and whooped enthusiastically, cheering her name as she took a dramatic bow. When the audience finally quieted, Minako sang in a voice that was clear and true like water. Each note felt like a raindrop that trickled down from the sky and broke gently against Yuuri’s ears. He had heard Minako sing before, but it always took him by surprise that the person who had been such a large presence in his life could make this.

A respectful, hushed silence fell over the crowd as her final notes faded away, but it was quickly broken by raucous applause. Minako bowed and gratefully accepted the piles of blue petals people scooped from the ground and pushed into her arms. She walked to the back to join Yuuri and his sister.

“That was amazing,” Yuuri whispered to her when she sat down. Mari nodded in agreement.

“Thanks,” Minako smiled. “Are you going to go up?”

Yuuri shook his head furiously and Mari laughed. “Not if you want an ear injury,” she said.

Minako looked back to the stage. “Oh,” she said. “Pay attention to this one. I’ve heard her before, and she’s very good.”

Yuuri turned back to the stage where a young woman had just taken her place on the stool. He had never seen her before, but the lute in her arms immediately caught his attention. He unconsciously scooted to the front edge of the bench, peering over the shoulders in front of him for a better look.

She bowed her head over her instrument, closing her eyes for just a moment. Then she began to play. Her fingers moved across the strings with such fluidity that Yuuri was she they possessed spirits of their own. His breathing shallowed lest the sound disrupt the performance. She evoked something soft and wistful, and Yuuri suspected that if he were to pierce the song right in its center, he would unbridle an intense melancholy that was just barely kept at bay. But as she played it now, it was almost lovely and inviting. It was not a song that was not meant to raise mountains. It was a song for the spring and the rain.

As the piece reached its climax, a surprising frustration began to mount within Yuuri. His fingers began to itch and tingle, and he moved them slightly against his knee, trying to mimic the motions of the lutist. He no longer wanted to be an passive observer to the building of someone else’s story; he wanted to create his own, and it was in that moment that Yuuri was struck with an acute, but perhaps not at all unsurprising, clarity.

He needed to learn to play the lute.

If that meant dedicating his life to the mastery of eleven — no, even a _thousand_ — strings, it was more than worth it to be able to summon forth a storm with music. And he knew exactly who he wanted to teach him.

He turned to look at Minako and Mari who were both engrossed in the performance. As the song came to a close and everyone rose to applaud, he slipped away, heart pounding, to his room. Frantically, he pulled a chest out from under his bed and dug through it until he found the the music box with the silver roses that he hastily stuffed into a pocket. On his way out the front door of the inn, he grabbed a lantern.

Yuuri burst out of the front door and into the street where the latent smell of fallen roses filled the clear night. If any passerby gave a second glance to the small boy darting toward the palace with an unlit lantern in his hand, Yuuri never noticed. When he reached the palace gate, he turned left and ran alongside the wall until he reached tree with the star. He dropped to his knees and ignited the lantern and then, one by one, followed the carved trees until he came back to the place with the boulder.

Panting heavily, he circled and tentatively pushed against it. Once again, it did not budge. The rose, now dried and withered, still laid in the same spot on top of the bolder. Yuuri looked in the direction that the rose pointed, but he only saw trees. He thought for a second, and then circled behind the bolder until he was once again facing in the same direction as the rose. This time when he pushed, the boulder jolted forward along two tracks, moving some of the ground with it as it revealed a trap door in the ground.

Yuuri’s jaw dropped. After a moment’s hesitation, he pulled at the door handle and it swung up and over with ease, revealing a tunnel and ladder that led deep into the ground. Unfurling the map, he looked at the final section that he, Yuko, and Takeshi had examined months before. It looked like a guide to a labyrinth — a disastrously confusing labyrinth — and he was about to go in alone.

Tucking the map under his arm and setting the lantern handle in his teeth, Yuuri inhaled deeply and lowered himself into the darkness below.

The tunnel was, unsurprisingly, quite dark and stuffy and as he followed the map deeper and deeper into the underground maze, his heart passed from beating fast from exertion to beating hard from nervousness. He had no idea how he would find Victor once he got to the other end of the tunnel, and that was if he got the to the other end of the tunnel. For all he knew, Victor had no desire to see him anymore. As his adrenaline-driven momentum waned, the trip into the underground began to feel more and more foolish. But Yuuri steeled himself and pressed forward anyway.

After many turns and much winding, the tunnel ceased to branch in different directions and began to tilt upward. Yuuri huffed quietly as he walked until the tunnel came abruptly to an end. Looking up, he saw another wooden door and a small ladder that led to it. He climbed and pushed it open, gratefully gulping in a breath of floral-tinted fresh air as he reunited with the outside world.

He crawled out of the tunnel and into a tight space between a stone wall and a bush. When he pushed his way through the foliage, he emerged into a courtyard not unlike the one at his parents’ inn, although it was neater, larger, and enclosed on all four sides by towering walls. A blue rose tree dominated its center, brilliantly illuminated by the light of the full moon. He walked past it toward the opposite wall, looking for a way out of the courtyard and into the palace.

“Yuuri,” a voice said softly.

Yuuri turned toward the direction of the voice, but he saw no one. His eyes trailed upward and into the tree until they landed on a reposed figure in the branches, nearly obscured by the falling petals. “You came,” the figure said.

Fey-like and solemn, with hair made of of starlight with a crown of blue roses set atop his head, Prince Victor Nikiforov had been waiting for him all along.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YAY FINALLY. also okay so I lied. I probably won't be able to update every Sunday, but I'll try my best!!! let me know what you think. you can also find me on the tumblz [@dearmortals](https://dearmortals.tumblr.com/)


	4. Chapter 4

“Prince Victor,” Yuuri said. 

Their eyes met through the falling blue petals, but Victor said nothing. He just stared at Yuuri, mouth slightly parted. Yuuri took a step forward and dropped to his knees below the tree, folding his hands together and pressing his fingertips to his forehead. “Prince Victor,” he said again. “I’ve come here to ask you to teach me to play the lute.”

There was a beat of silence, then two, then three. “Please,” Yuuri added.

Victor dropped from the tree, landing lightly in front of Yuuri and kneeling down to face him. Yuuri dropped his hands to the ground, searching Victor’s face for any sign of intention or hesitation. Finally, in an even tone Victor said “The lute cannot be taught.”

Yuuri’s breath caught in his throat. He curled his fingers into the grass, trying to tether himself to the swaying earth has his heart slammed against the inside of his chest. Of course Victor couldn’t teach him. Why would he? Why  should he? And yet…

Yuuri swallowed. “Then teach me where to pull at the strings. Teach me how to hold the lute against my body so it sings out. I want to sing with it. I want to raise mountains. Please, Victor, I’ll do anything.” Yuuri bowed his head again, but not before seeing the corner of Victor’s mouth twitch. 

“Anything?” Victor said.

“Anything.”

Victor reached forward and raised Yuuri’s chin with his forefinger, forcing Yuuri to look him in his eyes. “Anything,” Victor repeated.

Yuuri swallowed.

Victor reached out with both arms and wrapped them around Yuuri. “Be my friend. In return, I’ll teach you about music.”

Yuuri’s eyes widened as they filled with hot tears. He leaned into Victor, returning the embrace as he took in the quiet of the courtyard and the prince who shielded him from the chill of the night. He was so terrified. He was so happy.

 

~~~

 

They agreed to meet every full moon. Yuuri would come in the same way he did before, and Victor would be waiting for him in the courtyard to conduct the lessons. But the first interim period was torturous for Yuuri. Did he need to have his own lute? How else would he practice? How could he even  afford a lute? Would the prince turn him away if he couldn’t get one? What if he lacked the aptitude? And now, a bigger fear was starting to creep up on him from deep within his chest — what if he disappointed Victor?

“Yuuri! Stop daydreaming!” Mari barked at him, yanking him from his nervous reverie. He hastily went back to chopping vegetables.

As the moon waxed, his excitement about the lute had been waning, replacing itself with a deep-seated trepidation. Just as he was deciding it was never too late to back out, his knife nicked him slightly as if reprimanding him for his mutinous thoughts. Yuuri took a deep breath pivoted his mind back to doing chores.

The night before he was to meet Prince Victor again he lay awake in his room, staring at the shadows thrown by the nearly-full moon. He imagined what it would be like to walk onto a stage during a blue rose festival and pull out a lute and bask in the gasps from his family and Minako when he began to play music like nothing they had ever heard before. Even Yuko and Takeshi would attend and after the performance, Yuko would hug him, her eyes full of emotion and admiration. Yuuri smiled to himself, pulling the covers in tight up to his chin. It was a nice to think about surprising everyone like that.

But of course, reality never lived up to the expectations of daydreams.

The next night, Yuuri shakily emerged into the royal courtyard, snuffing out his lantern as he approached the tree. “Yuuri!” the prince called when he saw him. “You made it. Here, join me in the tree.”

Yuuri set the lantern on the ground and climbed to a branch opposite of Victor. For several minutes, the prince didn’t say anything. He just leaned against the trunk with his eyes closed and chest rising and falling slowly. For a moment, Yuuri thought he might have fallen asleep. Just as he was deciding whether or not he should wake Victor, he quietly breathed out, “Yuuri, do you hear that?”

Yuuri blinked, wondering if this was a trick question. As far as he knew, there was no one here except for the two of them. “Hear what?”

“Everything.”

“I don’t…” 

“Listen,” Victor said.

Yuuri frowned, keying his ear into whatever it was the prince was hearing. The leaves of the tree, now barren of blue roses, rustled slightly. “All I hear is the wind.”

“And?”

Yuuri listened more closely. “And…a bug? Chirping?”

Victor nodded, his eyes still closed.

“It’s very soft, but actually…when I listen to it, it’s kind of beautiful.” The chirp sounded more like one long, drawn-out note, as if someone were unceasingly rattling miniature silver bells in a shaker. “How have I never noticed this before?”

“Because they’re always in the background. We tend to not notice the things that are always there. Here, we call them the king’s bug. During the warm months, they rattle their wings together to attract mates.” Victor shifted slightly on his perch and finally opened his eyes. “That’s an F, by the way.”

“A what?”

“F, the letter name attributed to one of the notes used in most systems of music around here. There are seven notes with letters, and then five more in between. That’s twelve notes in total that can be played at different octaves. 

“Different oct- wait, only twelve?”

“Yes. At least for  most instruments. But the lute,” Victor turned to face Yuuri. “The lute, Yuuri, is special. The lute can do almost anything. The lute can bend notes, and bring entirely new ones into existence. If you want there to be sixteen notes, there will be sixteen. If you want there to be a hundred? Well,” he settled back into his spot with his eyes closed. “If your ear is attuned enough, there can be.”

“I’m a little lost,” Yuuri said.

“Yes, you will be.” Victor stretched, then sighed contently. “But for now, we can just listen to the night.”

“I…” Yuuri opened his mouth to say something, then closed it. Like Victor, he leaned against the tree and silently took in the quiet of the night.

 

~~~

 

The next morning, Yuuri snapped his eyes awake in confusion. “ What?”  he said out loud. Last night, all of his expectations for learning the lute turned to dust in his mouth. Upon waking the next morning and remembering his fruitless meeting with Victor, he was left with the taste of something dry and gritty and sour. The prince had taught him  nothing . Instead, they just sat in a tree and listened to the air and bugs and other nonsense.

Grumbling, he tugged on his clothes and tramped to the kitchen. “Wow, Yuuri, you got yourself up?” Mari said, raising an eyebrow as he grabbed a bread end and stuffed it in his mouth. Yuuri offered no response as he took the broom off the wall and walked outside to sweep the entrance.

The next full moon, Yuuri returned to the palace courtyard with lantern in hand. This time when he approached the tree, Victor did not call out to him. Yuuri looked up, trying to gauge whether or not the prince was sleeping or just ignoring him.

“Come up,” Victor said, finally.

Startled, Yuuri almost threw his lantern to the ground. He quickly clambered up to the same branch he had occupied before. A bird cooed distantly in the background. 

“What is—” Yuuri began to ask, but Victor just held a finger up to his closed lips. He tried to keep himself as still as possible so as not to disturb the quiet, but the branch dug into him uncomfortably and he quickly grew restless. Finally, he settled into an almost bearable position and tuned himself into the nighttime ambiance. The wind rustled through the tree leaves, the king’s bug sang a drawn-out, twinkling note, and now a bird, unknown to Yuuri, punctuated the air with melodic chirps. The night was balmy and all-around pleasant, and it would have been enjoyable had Yuuri known what he was supposed to be doing.

After what felt like hours of sitting and saying nothing, Yuuri sighed and dropped down from the tree. He looked up at Victor one last time. Without opening his eyes, Victor said, “Night swallow. C.”

Yuuri took his lantern and left.

 

~~~

 

If the months before was agony, this one was torture. While scrubbing the floors of the inn, Yuuri angrily stewed over the prince’s apparent negligence when it came to his music education. Yuuri understood perfectly well why Victor might want to deflect from taking the time to teach him anything. But the late nights, though infrequent, always took their toll on him the next morning and if the monthly escapades only amounted to sitting silently in a tree then Yuuri would rather not waste Victor’s — or his — time. 

Yuuri paused for a moment to set the rag back in the bucket and sit back on his heels. It occurred to him that he didn’t know what Victor did during the day. He found himself vaguely curious as he watched the edges of the wet floor begin to dry. Shaking his head to clear it, he reached back into the bucket and began to scrub. He would talk to Victor about it more the next time he met.

 

~~~

 

Yuuri never got the chance. The next time he entered the courtyard, Victor wasn’t in the tree.

“Victor?” Yuuri called out hesitantly. No one answered. Yuuri spun around frantically, casting the light from the lantern in different directions. His heart began to speed up. “Victor?” he said again, this time more quietly.

The king’s bug chirped. But tonight, there was no night swallow.

“Victor?”

There was a new sound, however. It was high-pitched, squalling, and quickly growing louder. Yuuri pressed himself against the trunk of the tree with the lantern held nearly against his chest. As it grew and closer, Yuuri crouched to the ground, letting the lantern roll away as he pressed his hands to his ears and closed his eyes.

“Yuuri!” Yuuri heard his name through his cupped hands. He opened his eyes to see Victor extinguishing the lantern in front of him. “You should be more careful,” Victor said. “You could have started the fire.”

“Victor,” Yuuri said, dropping his hands from his head.

“I thought you were going to look for me! I was trying to call you,” Victor brought a blade of grass to his lips and whistled through it. It was the high-pitched note that Yuuri had been trying to get away from. “Do you know what this is?”

“No, and Victor I—”

“This is an A. Here, you try.” Victor passed him the blade of grass.

Yuuri rose and took it from him, pressing it between his thumb and forefinger. A chill ran through his body. “I don’t know how.”

“Just try.”

Yuuri pressed his lips to it and blew. Nothing happened. Rather than embarrass himself further, he passed it back to Victor. “That’s it?” Victor said. 

Yuuri looked away. “Victor, I think—”

Victor cut him off. “No matter. Wow.” He opened his arms, spinning around once as he took in the balmy, summer night. “Listen to everything the world has to offer us tonight.”

Yuuri listened, but he didn’t hear anything particularly special. He dug his foot into the grass nervously while Victor closed his eyes and turned his face up to the moon. “Victor,” he finally said. “I thought you were going to teach me to play the—”

“Wow, do you hear that Yuuri?” Victor’s eyes snapped open. “The night swallow is back!”

“Wait, but—”

“I remember the first time I heard one. I thought my whole world had split and then mended itself back together.”

“Please, we really need to—”

“Are they even aware of how beautifully they sing?”

“ Victor! ” Yuuri cried out. “I came here to learn the lute. I  snuck out to learn the lute. Why are  you here?”

Victor looked at him, blinking. “I thought I was clear, Yuuri. I cannot teach you the lute.”

Yuuri sighed and tilted his head back to catch the tears welling in his eyes from frustration. “Then why am  I  here,” Yuuri asked, more to himself. He heard Victor inhale sharply, but before either of them could offer a response to that question, Yuuri scooped up the lantern and walked toward entrance to the courtyard passageway. As he turned away, he let the tears fall freely.

Victor called after him, his voice slightly reminiscent of dark nights and twinkling bells.  F , Yuuri thought to himself.

 

~~~

 

Yuuri was in the inn’s kitchen when it happened.

He was resting his chin on his forearms as he watched his mother prepare katsudon. The onions were chopped and the rice was cooking on the stove, and she had just laid the pork cutlet out on the tabletop. Yuuri salivated as he envisioned the tender meat intertwining with the soft yolk of an egg. 

“Hmm, how did these blades get so dull?” Yuuri’s mom said. She fished around the drawers for a grit stone. “There we go.” She wet the stone slightly, then ran it across the edge of the knife in one, long stroke. When she did, it sang out so truly that Yuuri bolted upright, almost toppling backward onto the kitchen floor.

“Yuuri?” his mom asked.

C , Yuuri thought.  C . “I’ll be right back!” He darted out the kitchen.The king’s bug. The night swallow. Now all it needed was…

Yuuri ran out into the courtyard and plucked a blade of grass. He blew into it, but nothing happened. He blew harder and harder until he was red in the face, but still no sound came. Winded and dejected, he sat plopped on the ground and watched the grass tips sway in the wind.

“Hey,” Mari walked up behind him. She took the blade of grass and folded it between her thumb and forefinger. “Like this.” She held it up to Yuuri’s mouth, and when he blew, sound finally came through. It was high and unpleasant, but when he lowered in his head ( octaves , he thought to himself), it fit in nicely between the others.

F, A, and C. A prince’s laugh, his sister’s love, and his mother preparing his favorite meal. Things that made him feel grounded and happy. A major chord.

 

~~~

 

On his way to the palace during the next full moon, everything seemed to sparkle. His footsteps punctuated a quiet rhythm against the thrilling song of night swallows. King’s bugs chirped counter-melodies to the themes of evening birds, and by the time Yuuri made it to the tunnel entrance he was deep in the throes of a moonlit symphony. He emerged into the courtyard humming the song of the forest, unable to keep from smiling to himself.

Victor gasped from his perch in the tree as Yuuri walked through the bushes. “I  knew you would find it,” he said. “How?”

“A pork cutlet bowl.”

“A…well, that’s unique.” Yuuri’s face flushed hot as Victor laughed. “Here…” the prince pulled a lute out from beside him and passed it down to Yuuri, who took it gingerly, turning it over in his hands as if it were the most delicate thing in the world, the most precious thing in the world. Victor smiled mischievously, taking out own lute and setting it in his lap.

“Now let’s make the stars fall.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YESSSSSS THESE BEAUTIFUL BOYS ARE FINALLY GOING TO JAM OUT TO SOME SWEET, SWEET LUTE MUSIC. 
> 
> Fingers crossed for a lil time jump soon ;))) Find me on Tumblr at @dearmortals


End file.
